


Ever my Sunlight

by Allara



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Oneshot, Post Time Skip, Post canon, Power Couple, Save Me, They argue, but then reconcile because Khalid is cute, edelclaude, post crimson flower
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:48:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26566096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allara/pseuds/Allara
Summary: Though her logic pleaded somewhere in her mind that she ought to lower her voice, to take a calming breath and just listen—the eager flames of fury were too overwhelming, and she saw only crimson. It made her illogical, impatient.Even when it came to her husband.
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 10
Kudos: 53





	Ever my Sunlight

**Author's Note:**

> might i interest you in the rare pair religion of edelclaude?

Anger was something she was all too familiar with. 

It was the very force of fire that drove her to raise her axe in revolution, to crush the twisted ways of an old world beneath the purging flames of war. 

Retribution, for Edelgard, was a beautifully dressed form of anger; her own fury that righteously propelled her ever forward, ever ambitious. She had practically built a name on it: for being the cold, stoic Empire of Flames whose fury gave her the means to uproot an entire continent once built on falsehood. 

But, that same anger often tangled herself into unsavory predicaments. Though her logic pleaded somewhere in her mind that she ought to lower her voice, to take a calming breath and just _listen_ —the eager flames of fury were too overwhelming, and she saw only crimson. It made her illogical, impatient.

Even when it came to her husband. 

“We can’t just we can’t just lock him up in the dungeons without proper evidence, El.”

She seethed, pressing her lips tight together before parting them to speak. “What then? Simply allow this man to exploit his position for his own selfishness? I’ll not stand for it.”

Claude, ever patient, brushed a stray piece of hair from his face with a slow inhale. “I’m not saying we should let him stay on the roundtable—stars, I think he belongs behind bars too.”

“Then _what_?” She insisted, feeling her own patience wearing threadbare. Edelgard was never one for inaction—especially when it cost the wellbeing of others. Many years built on the paranoia of the ticking clock taught her to be quick to take hold of the hands of fate, even if these days she no longer feared each day that doomed her a day older. These days the roots of her hair were growing in a familiar hue: a dusty brunette that made her weep when it first reappeared. 

“There’s a process to something like this. He’s a delegate with a long familial history and a cozy spot in the nobility and our own roundtable. There would have to be a trial, evidence needs to be presented, he—“

“I know!”

He was right, she knew. But that didn’t mean her blood burned any less at the thought of the lord who had been exploiting his position for years—possibly decades—to dip into royal funds and use them to pay off rumor-mongers and assassins to tear apart those who threatened his position. There was even evidence he was involved in boycotting the funding for reformed orphanages Claude and Edelgard had worked the past while to found throughout Fodlan. “ _A waste of resources_ ,” Edelgard recalled him saying when Dorothea had initially presented the proposal to the table—when truly it was merely that it might take from his own wealth. Nearly every proposal presented from Claude or Edelgard that involved readjusting funds and distributing them to facilities and resources who needed it had been met with flippant opposition from the snake of a man. 

She swallowed against another wave of fury, trying to grasp for her logic and patience to combat the red she saw from the mere thought of the criminal sitting in her own council. 

Frankly put, he was the epitome of everything Edelgard despised about the old world and its corrupted nobles. 

“And in the meantime he’ll use his gold to twist the entire process. He’ll pay off the opposition—and when he’s sentenced, he’ll be bailed by his _filthy_ inheritance alone—“

“We have people we can enlist, El. With the right evidence, even the most well-made cleanup crew couldn’t hide what he’s done.”

“And where will we get this evidence?”

“You know I have my resources.” He attempted a grin to achieve some levity, but the effort clattered uselessly against the seething air clouded around Edelgard. 

She pinched the bridge of her nose where her elbow was propped on her desk, overwhelmed by the abrupt tiredness that always came with dilemmas such as these. The distant voice of her father in the back of her mind scolded her for so improperly putting her elbows on the table, but her time courting and being married to Claude had made her far more relaxed on such frivolity. 

“And if you don’t find what is needed?”

“I will,” he assured, voice confident as he crossed his arms from where he was standing on the other side of her desk. 

“And if you don’t,” she insisted, dropping her hand flat to the wood to meet his gaze once more, “then all this effort would be for nothing. He would continue his work, his name would be untarnished, and _we_ would be the enemies for accusing such a renowned family of such horrid things.”

“We can’t afford to be so pessimistic, El—“

“I am not being pessimistic. I’m being _realistic_.”

“Expecting the worst scenario isn’t going to help.”

“It will help us be _prepared_.”

“Isn’t it tiresome,” he practically groaned, leaning his legs against her desk, “being so dour about everything?”

She glared up at him, standing slowly from her seat. She despised being looked down upon, even if she knew deep within her Claude would never demean her in such a manner. The buzzing blaze in her veins certainly didn’t allow her to sit still, either. 

Even stretched to her full height, she had to lift her chin upward to meet his eyes. 

“Not all of us can waltz around with a grin ever on our face. Reality is harsh.”

Claude scoffed. “ _Someone_ has to lift the mood from time to time.”

“Are you implying I am a killjoy?”

“Of the worst sort.”

Upon her brows lowering into a glower, he dropped his arms from where they were crossed across his chest. 

“I was _teasing_ ,” he exclaimed. “See? You can’t even take a—“

“Now is _not_ the time to be joking!” Her voice was becoming strained, and she was grasping onto the last of her composure. Her anger had full grip on her actions now, loathe as she was to realize it. The room of her study was vacuumed with a tense air that made the walls feel all too close. Her hips were pressed into the carved edge of her desk as she leaned forward, and she ignored the way it pressed uncomfortably into her skin through her skirts. 

“I was _trying_ to lighten the mood—“

“—And I _can_ take a joke—lighten the mood—? Claude—“

“I really don’t want to argue—“

“Then may we _please_ get back to what we were discussing?”

“That’s what started this whole debacle to begin with!”

“I _want_ to solve it, Claude!”

“I do too!” 

“Then _act like it—“_

_“I’m trying, Edelgard!”_

Edelgard’s mouth was poised open to retaliate again, but she paused. She halted where she was leaned against her palms over her desk, the burning anger in her blood faltering. Claude was mirroring her pose on the other side with his hands braced against the wood, the slightest crease in his brow in a look of indignation, his hair tousled from its pristine style after a long day of stress. The anger froze in her blood, then fizzled away until her blood warmed into something entirely different. 

The furrow in Claude’s brow eased as well as he peered at her. There was a pause of tense silence as they stared at each other. 

“ _What_?” He insisted at the abrupt grin twitching at the corner of her lips. 

Her smile only grew as he spoke again, the crease in her own forehead relieved by the expression. 

“Say my name again.”

He stared at her incredulously, lips parting slightly as his eyes analyzed the planes on her face—skeptical, like she was luring him into a trap. 

“...Edelgard,” he said slowly, as though testing her name on his lips for the first time. 

She shook her head, smile still present. 

“No,” she said. “Like you did the first time.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he insisted as he lifted from his lean against her desk, and Edelgard was charmed to see him appear almost _shy_. 

“Your accent,” she grinned fondly, and his gaze skittered briefly away from hers in an endearing display of nearly boyish timidness. “It surfaces when you are upset.”

“...Don’t know what you mean,” he practically mumbled a second time. 

Edelgard took a steadying breath, diffusing whatever tension remained in her limbs. The geyser of raging emotion that had gripped her before had dissipated at something so menial, so charmingly _Claude_. The little slip of his accent had distracted her from the anger that propelled their argument, and with a steadying breath she chose to forget her fury. With some effort, she pressed the flames away until she blinked with renewed clarity and regained her control. She carefully stepped around the desk to join him on the other side, tentatively reaching for him. 

His own posture visibly eased as she looped her arms around his waist, peering up at him as she laced her fingers at his back. He brushed his thumbs over her arms, eyes still carrying an inquisitive look. 

“I’m sorry,” she told him gently after a moment, raising her eyes to his again. “I feel like I become angry and it just...takes hold of me. Until it isn’t even _me_ controlling me anymore.” A pausing inhale as she bit back her pride. Apologizing and admitting her own faults were things that had never come easy for her, and marriage was a proving test to fight that impulse of prideful scorn. But she would not succumb to her poor habits this time. “I should not have shouted at you like that.”

Claude let out a relieved sigh, moving one hand to sweep her hair from her face and he regarded her for a moment. “I understand. It’s okay.”

“It is not okay,” she insisted gently, unwilling to accept that he’d be so quick to brush away her outburst like nothing had transpired. “And I’m sorry.”

He shook his head fondly at her, a soft smile gracing his face. “I forgive you.” He pressed a feather-light kiss to the crown of her head. “Besides,” he added as he leaned back to look at her again, “I love your fire. You’re admirable for it.”

“Not when I take it out on my husband,” she grumbled more to herself than to him, turning her gaze away again. 

“Perhaps,” he laughed gently. “But I still love you for it.”

Her own expression turned mirthful, and she peered up at him from beneath her lashes. “And I love your accent.”

His smile morphed into a sheepish one, and he glanced away as his uncharacteristic timidness returned. “Old habits, I suppose.”

“I don’t think I have ever heard it before,” she noted, and he shrugged evasively. 

Edelgard lifted herself to her toes, nudging his nose playfully with her own as she looped her arms around his neck. 

“May I hear my name again?” She drawled, practically pouting as she tugged his face lower to her height. 

Claude sighed dramatically, tilting his chin slightly back for effect even as a smile twinged the corners of his mouth. 

“Please?”

He returned his head to face her, his gaze following with it as he regarded her fondly. His eyes were warm, and she mirrored his enamored expression. 

“ _Edelgard_ ,” he said.

She smiled at the softened pronunciation and rolled “r” of her usually harsh name, and how it sounded so gentle and flowing in the lilt of his native accent.

Edelgard lifted her chin so her lips barely touched his. 

“ _Edelgard_ ,” He said again against her lips, and she shivered. She could feel an entirely different heat in her veins stemming from the way his lips brushed against hers as he moved his mouth around the shape of her name, graceful in his gentle cadence. “ _My love, my newr khewreshad_.”

And perhaps Edelgard’s blood did burn with a fiery passion, and with a righteous need for justice in the new world she had created. Generations had suffered under the thumb of a false god and its children—and her fury had been the weapon that cleaved centuries of deceit into ash. And from it she had nursed a new world intended to thrive in the name of merit and justice. 

But she had created it with a certain impossible man at her side as her equal—the very man who made her blood burn with different, entirely welcome passion. 


End file.
